Closure
by Lavender and Hay
Summary: Baxley, post the finale. Spoilers.
1. Chapter 1

**The title is self-explanatory, because they had no ending.**

"Miss Baxter? Would you step outside for a second?"

Everyone else was starting to head up to bed, it had been nothing if not an exciting day, and she had been starting to think about it herself.

His question stopped her, though. He seemed a little uneasy - jolly still, from the drinks they had had but uneasy all the same.

"Of course," she replied softly.

He didn't have his coat on, but he was holding it in his hand. Maybe he was thinking of leaving straight off after he'd said whatever he had to. She followed him to the back door away from all of the other people. They passed Mrs Patmore on the way, more than a little tipsy it seemed.

"You not going up?" she asked Phyllis.

"In a minute," Phyllis assured her.

"Suit yourselves," Mrs Patmore had seemed to have forgotten that the two of them would not be going up together, "I'll say goodnight then," she told them both.

"Goodnight, Mrs. Patmore," Joseph said to her.

She gave him an almost rueful look and went away, murmuring something that sounded suspiciously like "Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

They exchanged a look.

"I think she's had a bit much," she murmured to him.

He grinned a little.

"There would have been a time when that would have been me," he told her, "Before you were here."

"I find that hard to believe," she replied, stepping out of the back door after him.

"I get along without it now," he told her.

He still had not put on his coat. She was about to ask him if he should wear it or not if he didn't want to catch cold, when he held it out, plainly offering it to her.

"I don't want you to get cold," he told her.

She hesitated for a moment, looking first to the coat and then to him. He was completely serious. She reached her hand out to take it, but he stepped around her draping it over her shoulders. It was large and heavy and warm and she drew it around herself gratefully, pulling it up to her chin. He smiled at the sight of her in it, and then his eyes fell a little. He looked nervous again.

"I've been wanting to ask you something for some time," he began, "Tonight felt like the night."

"It's been a lovely night," she agreed with him, "With Lady Edith, and with Anna's baby. Oh, and Thomas," her smile broadened sincerely now, "Everyone's got a reason to be happy, at last."

"They have," he said slowly, seeming to weigh up his words very carefully, "But I was wondering-… If I couldn't, maybe, give _you_ a reason to be happy. Phyllis."

She startled a little at the use of her name. And the fact that it made her realise exactly what he was about to ask her. Her heart sped up noticeably, and seemed to move to her throat.

"Of course, it would mainly be me, who would be happy if-…" he stopped himself, shaking his head, starting again, "Of course, recently, I've been happier than I ever thought I'd have the chance to be, at the school, with the cottage. Coming to see you on Saturdays. I seem to have found my feet. Touch wood," he added hastily, as an after thought.

"I'd say you have," she assured him softly.

He looked at her, nodded.

"Well, the thing is-…" he looked away from her again.

Reaching her hand out from under his coat, she took hold of his softly, hoping to steady him, to give him courage.

He swallowed. It seemed to work.

"The thing is," he continued, "These last few weeks, I've been wondering if you'd like-… more than just Saturdays. With me." His eyes were on her face now, as he explained, "The cottage is a little bit for just me, I don't know how to-… I miss you," he confessed, at last, plainly, putting into speech the words that had floated through both their minds more than once recently, "I love you. I want to be with you."

When at last it came, it came so suddenly that she could barely speak to answer him. She took a moment to process it.

Then she stepped forwards, covering his hand with her other one too now.

"You know," she told him, not trusting her voice not to shake, "I considered letting you know. You know what I thought about doing?"

"What?" he asked her.

"I thought about trying to catch Lady Edith bouquet, in front of you," she told him, grinning, "Mad, isn't it?"

Tears had formed in her eyes, but she beamed, seeing him laugh at the idea. She kept grinning

"Maybe I'm drunk," she wondered.

"Maybe I'm drunk to have worked up the nerve to ask you to marry me," he told her, "Because I am asking."

"I know," she replied, "And I'm saying yes."

The look on his face was like nothing she'd ever seen.

"You have no idea," he told her, "How happy this makes me. How hard I'll try, every day, to show you how much I-…" there were tears in his eyes, he reached away to dab at them, but she reached out for his arm, tugging him back to her.

"I love you," she told him, looking up into his eyes, "I love you too, Joseph Molesley."

She reached up, pressing her mouth fervently to his, kissing him with every ounce of might she could muster.

 **end.**

 **please review if you're as mad as i am about the ending**


	2. Chapter 2

**a scene from married life (happy new year).**

"Joseph."

He was sitting in his armchair, trying to choose an extract of Dickens for next week's lessons when he was interrupted, somewhat to his surprise, by a kiss on the forehead.

He raised his eyes a little, over the glasses he'd started to wear a few weeks ago due to the amount of extra reading he'd picked up over the course of the last year. Perched, not a little precariously, on the arm of the chair was a rather large Phyllis. Rather large, because noticeably pregnant. Her arm rested on the back of the chair, hovering over his shoulder as she regarded him expectantly.

"Hello, my love," he said to her, kissing her gently on the cheek in return, "Are you alright?"

"It's getting late," she informed him, "How much longer are you going to be?"

He glanced at his watch. It was half past six.

"It's not too late," he told her, "A while until bedtime, anyway. I should probably finish choosing this extract at least."

She huffed, deliberately loudly.

"You're not alright, are you?" he asked her gently, putting his arm around her waist to steady her, "What's the matter?"

"I feel…" she couldn't find the right word.

"Are you uncomfortable?" he asked her.

"Yes," she replied.

"What is it?" he asked, "Where do you feel uncomfortable?"

"Everywhere," she told him despairingly, "I feel so enormous, Joseph."

There were certain facts that even the most enamoured husband could not deny.

"Well, you're certainly no less gorgeous," he told her softly.

She was yet to be convinced.

"I'm hot all the time," she told him.

That too, had not passed him by.

"Is there anything I can get you?" he asked her softly, pushing a loose stand of her hair back behind her ear, toughing protruding stomach tenderly with his other hand, "Water, tea, cushions?" he rested his face against her shoulder, pressing a kiss into her arm, "Your body weight in toffee?"

She looked down at his thoughtfully, rubbing his cheek softly with her hand, lifting her hand further up and taking his glasses off his face.

"I want you, Joseph," she told him.

"Eh?" he asked, surprised.

She smiled a little, shifting herself closer to him.

"You asked me what I wanted, I want you."

He still looked a little bit dumbfounded. He didn't even know why, it was just the last thing he'd expected to say.

"It's been like this for the last few weeks-…" she tried to explain, "I've wanted you, all of the time."

"Why didn't you say?" he asked her.

"Because it's been _all_ the time," she told him, "I didn't know what you would think."

"I don't think I would have minded," he told her, bemused.

She smiled at him.

"But I'm so big-…"

"Listen," he told her softly, his hands on her waist, at the top of her thighs, encouraging her to sit in his lap. She did so, cautiously, holding onto his shoulders, "Yes, you've got a little bit bigger. But I couldn't be happier about it, because you're going to have our child and it's-… it's the best thing I could imagine happening," he rested his hand on her stomach again, soothing his palm back and forth, "And you look, _amazing_. I promise you," his hand moved softly over her back, higher, holding her to him, "I love you. I've never loved you more. And if you want me, well, lucky me then."

He looked up into her eyes, saw them swimming with tears. She blinked quickly.

"Sorry," she told him quickly, "I don't know what's wrong with me-… That was so lovely."

"It's alright," he told her softly, "It's fine," gently brushing her tears away with his thumb, "Don't worry. We don't have to do anything you don't want to."

"But, I want-… I want-…" she struggled for the words, "I just feel so big," she told him hopelessly, "So slow."

He kissed her cheek tenderly.

"We can be slow," he told her, "We can do anything you want."

She leant forwards, kissing his cheek again softly, lingering close to him.

"Thank you," she told him quietly, "I love you."

 **Please review if you've got time.**


	3. Chapter 3

_10 minutes later_

She looked up at him, her face a mixture of thoughtfulness and expectancy, as he removed the last of her clothing, stroking his fingertips down the outside of her thighs as he pulled her underwear down her legs. He himself was down to his trousers and shirtsleeves. Finished with his journey to her ankles, he knelt by her side, looking at her tenderly.

"Are you alright?" he asked her.

She nodded softly.

"What are you thinking?" he asked.

A smile spread slowly over her face.

"That this is really nice of you," she told him. He had led her up here by the hand, arranged all of the pillows under her back and encouraged her to lie down on them. He had undressed her very carefully, pressing very tender kisses into her skin, putting her clothes neatly to one side as he did so, shedding his own tie and waistcoat as he did so. She reached out, cupping his cheek with her palm. "Are you-…" she began to ask him, "Are you sure? Now that you've seen me without my clothes."

"Phyllis," he murmured, telling her again what he had done before, "I couldn't love you more. What you want, I want. I could never not want to make love to you," softly, he moved towards her, lying down beside her, encouraging her to lie on her side too. His arms were around her, brushing down her side, over her hip and the curve of her bottom, "How long I waited for you, I'll always love you, I'll always want you," His hand touched her stomach, as lovingly as she could imagine, "You're carrying my child."

The wonder in his voice, now as ever, did not escape her. She watched breathlessly, let out a long sigh as he touched her breast.

"Does it hurt?" he asked quickly.

"It's a little tender," she replied, "But it's alright."

He nodded.

"Dr. Clarkson said it could be," he agreed.

"Please don't talk about Dr. Clarkson while you're doing that," she asked him.

He let out a chuckle, running his thumb over the side of her breast.

"I only want to think about you," she continued, her voice low and throaty, "How happy you make me."

"Phyllis," he murmured again.

Their eyes met and she leaned in towards him, kissing him deeply. As she did so, her hand left her breast, caressing her stomach as it found its way between her legs. She gasped against his mouth.

"Darling," she murmured softly.

"Is that alright?" he asked her.

"Yes," she replied, "Of course."

"Good," he told her, leaning in to kiss her again.

His other hand pushed her knee up a little, parting her legs a bit so that he could explore further. She sighed again, her head rolling back a little against the pillows, as his fingers brushed gently between her folds. His mouth lingered at the base of her throat.

"That feels good," she told him softly.

"What else do you need?" he asked her.

"Your mouth," she replied immediately, "Would you-…?"

She felt his lips between her breasts, planting a line of kisses over the crest of her stomach, shifting himself to settle between her legs. She felt him wrap his arms around her hips, cradling her in place. She almost smiled - it wasn't like she was going anyway- but a moment later she felt his lips on her and the thought tumbled out of her mind.

"Yes," she murmured, "That's it."

Her hands clutched his head softly, pressing him to her a little, as her hips rocked against his mouth. He kissed her folds, the tops of her thighs, her centre. She came apart in his arms with a ferocious degree of force and he held her there. She rocked against his body - still clothed - as he scooted back up the bed to hold her.

"I love you," he told her softly, "You're so beautiful. You're amazing."

He pushed her loose hair out of her face so he could see her eyes. They were shining with emotion, love, her cheeks flushed with pleasure.

Her voice was so hoarse she could barely speak, but the words slipped from her throat.

"I'm so glad I have this with you," she told him.

He knew what she meant.


	4. Chapter 4

**miss-baxter wanted a chapter with the new baby, so here it is, sorry it took so long.**

 **also, fyi, my headcanon, for some reason, is that they call their little girl Maisy.**

The sight that met Phyllis when she went upstairs to their bedroom was not the one she expected, for several reasons. The most obvious being that this was by far and away the earliest that their daughter had gone to sleep in the five days they'd had her at home since she'd been born. And then there was also the small matter of the fact that she was asleep not in her cot, but curled up into a tiny ball on her father's chest as he lay on their bed, sprawled out, asleep, but with one hand, the size of the baby's back, holding her steady. For a moment, she stood in the door, amused by the sight of the helpless sleeping lump, and the smaller one he was holding. Then, she gently moved forward, carefully extracting Maisy, while trying not to wake her up at all costs.

Feeling his hand being moved and the weight removed from his chest, Joseph gave what was for him an admirable performance of sitting bolt upright and alert.

"Was going on?" he asked her, rubbing his eyes, "Where's Maisy?"

"Don't worry," she told him quietly, letting him see the baby held against her chest, "She's not going far."

"Is she alright?" he asked her, crawling on his knees to the end of the bed to watching as Phyllis put her down in the little bed next to the bedstead.

"Yes, she's doing fine," Phyllis told him, lying her down, managing not to wake her up, "And she's asleep too! How on earth did you manage it?"

"I don't know," he admitted, leaning over the bedstead, watching the daughter as Phyllis tucked her in, "I suppose I sort of led by example."

Phyllis gave him an amused look and he grinned back at her.

She leaned over, giving her daughter a very soft kiss on her very dark hair.

"Goodnight, tiny little mouse," she told her softly.

Maisy kept on sleeping. Joe watched her thoughtfully.

"She's so lovely," he said, not for the first time.

"Yes, she is," Phyllis agreed, smiling at him again.

And then she yawned.

"I'm so tired though," she told him, "I don't blame you for passing out."

"Come here and lie down," he told her, "Have a rest for a bit."

"Alright," she agreed, moving to her side of the bed and crawling onto the covers beside him, "Just wake me up and make me put my nightie on if I drop off."

"Alright," he agreed, "You need to get some proper sleep though. How are you feeling today?"

"Almost back to normal," she assured him, "Still a little bit achy."

She lay beside him and he put his arms around her waist, holding her snuggly against his chest.

"You did so well," he told her, again, not for the first time that week.

She still smiled, though, still gratified by his praise.

"I read to her today," he told her.

"Oh really?" she asked, "What did you do, try some Dickens out on her?"

When she'd been pregnant he'd talked quite a lot about the academic hopes he had for their daughter, but she hadn't realised he'd got so far as devising a curriculum.

"No, I read her the Owl and the Pussy Cat," he told her, "She seemed to like it."

"Why?" she asked, "What did she do?"

"Some gurgling," he told her, "Which I took to be approving."

She laughed.

"Well, that sounds like a good afternoon for the pair of you," she replied happily.

"It was," he assured her, "The only thing is I finished it, so I'll have to break out the _David Copperfield_ tomorrow."

"Oh, Joseph, don't make me laugh," she told him, "Or I'll wake her up."

"Sorry," he murmured softly, laughing a little himself, stroking his hand gently over her wife's hair, "Let me get up tonight," he told her, "If she wakes up."

"But you did last night," she reminded him, "Hence you sprawling out here at seven o'clock."

"I know," he told her, "But I want you to get back to normal. You need the rest more than me."

"Just so long as you don't fall asleep in your lessons on Monday," she told him, "Or Mr. Dawes won't be happy. And the children might draw a moustache on you."

"I'll leave that to Maisy, when she's a little bit bigger," he assured her, holding her a little closer, "I'll know her mother put her up to it."

"Yes," she replied, "I'll be sure to."

 **Please review if you have the time.**


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